Kinks: Anal play/Rimming/Analingus! You've been warned! There's also sex magic.

Timeline: 3.20 AU

Characters: Bonnie Bennett, Jeremy Gilbert, Klaus Mikaelson, Elena Gilbert, Caroline Forbes, Damon Salvatore, Matt Donovan, Stefan Salvatore, and Tyler Lockwood.

A/N: I've created an AO3 account using the same screen name as I do here. I'll continue posting my racy stories here, but in case ff ever takes them down, know that they're also posted on AO3.

Chapter 1: At Her Core

Bulbs, shrubs, and herbs. Bonnie rested her socked feet on the small coffee table, something her father always chastised her for, while she flipped through the newest issue of Better Homes and Garden, which she'd picked up when she'd stepped out to buy eggs and bread. The lamp on the side table next to her chair illuminated the perennials on the glossy page. She also liked the annuals and hoped she would move from planting them in her mind to actually starting a garden.

She needed a hobby. She hadn't stepped in her usual karaoke bar in almost a year. She used to get phone calls from her singing buddies, but after the sixth "I'm really sorry, there's just a lot going on" without further explanation, the calls had severely dwindled. Only two people continued to make an effort now and then.

She needed a new hobby, one that didn't involve people. She couldn't handle people right now. For the past three days, she'd gone from home to school and back home. It was the weekend now, Saturday, and the decade dance would be taking place tonight. She'd made a pre-emptive strike two days ago by calling Caroline to let her know she wasn't going, and then she'd turned her phone off. She was still reeling from her encounter with Klaus. She didn't spend much time thinking about it, preferring instead to count the hours until the sun set. Evening was now her favorite time. The daylight's sun threatened to shine on emotions she wasn't ready to explore, ugly truths she wasn't ready to make part of her day to day existence.

After the hours spent under Klaus' vigilant eyes and deceptively patient words and after slumping against her car, she'd pulled herself up and driven home with the minuscule emotional strength she had left. The small amount of energy had held her together while she'd called Jaime and, with a normal voice, had asked him if he'd heard from Abby. Just checking, she'd answered when he'd asked her why. She could hear in his voice that he wasn't okay. So in order to stall the inevitable moment when she would mentally go over her day, she'd asked him how he was doing. And while he'd tried to put his feelings into words, while he'd marveled at how quickly his life had changed, while he'd hoped Abby was okay, she'd pictured going to the woman's funeral and opening the casket to find that they'd stuffed pieces of her in there. The eyes looked at her without emotion because they had no relationship to speak of. Maybe the emotions would be there when Jaime looked. And when the boy on the other end of the line mentioned how Abby had managed to stay away from all of this and as soon as she got back in it...he hadn't completed the thought, and she hadn't responded. He'd jumped to smooth over the accusation. No offense meant, he'd said. She hadn't taken any, because she'd decided he'd spoken the truth. It was a truth she'd thought many times. She never should've gone to Abby, never should've asked for her help. She should've continued trying on her own, just like she always had. She should've listened when the woman had said no, don't open the coffin. But her childish heart, her vindictive heart had driven her to push Abby because it was the least the woman could do. They needed the coffin open, there was no time for doubts or hesitation.


Just get it done, no time for personal problems or misgivings. That was how she had felt about Abby. She surmised that was how Klaus had felt about her four days ago. She knew without a doubt that that's how Damon and Stefan felt towards her. She now heard it in her memory of their voices, and she wondered why she hadn't heard it at the time. Just as her brain started contemplating the concept of hindsight, she flipped to a particularly beautiful hanging basket arrangement.

She knocked her bare knees together to relieve them of the cold from the blasting air conditioner and passively thought for the fifth time about turning the temperature up.

The quiet engine of a car caught her attention, and from the way the sound drew nearer, she knew someone was pulling into her driveway. She didn't move when they knocked, and she contemplated letting them get bored and leave. She was positive that it wasn't Caroline or Elena. It was late afternoon; the dance was in two hours. Surely they were just now starting to get ready.

The knock turned insistent and her heart rate revved up anxiously to match the pounding. Sighing, she set the magazine on her thighs and dry-washed her face. That right there was one reason she preferred to be away from people nowadays.


Her hands paused on her face at the familiar voice. She stood and fixed her dark purple shorts.


The window, next to her. Jeremy. Three steps, and she lifted a blind and saw him with his hands cupped around his mouth. She let the blind fall before she could register anything about him. A brisk walk around, and she was at the door. When she flung it open she stared at him, and he stared at her, and she wondered why her movements were so erratic. Her heart still thudded.


She stared at his face, waiting for any changes to manifest. He looked a bit bigger than before but that could be because he was wearing a flannel on top of his shirt.


She'd seen that look many times before. The head tilt forward, the quirk of his eyebrows, the narrowed eyes boring into her face. Opposing emotions enveloped her. She felt like she'd finally stumbled onto something familiar, something recognizable, something private. And it did nothing for her. She found no comfort in it.

"Hi," she responded at last with a smile. Something in the tone of her voice made him visibly relax.


She would've stood there and stared if he didn't ask her for an invitation. She twisted her mouth in consideration. "I don't know."

He chuckled and walked in.

"So it is you," she said as she closed the door.

"What, did you think I'd been turned?"

She ignored the friendly deepness of his voice. When had she last heard it? "No. I'm just surprised to see you here."

"So you knew I was back."

"Elena called the house two days ago. I'm sorry I haven't come by to see you," she said, putting her hands on her waist.

"No you're not," he said without malice.

There was an immediate change behind her eyelids at the softness of his voice. She hoped he didn't keep that up. She was of the opinion that she'd cried for the last time outside of Klaus' mansion. She was of the opinion that she had no more tears to shed. She did not want to be proven wrong. Because the last bout of crying had left her feeling spent, empty...weak. Docile.

Wanting to avoid her train of thought, she changed the subject. "How was Denver?"

"How are you doing?"

She inhaled. "I'm fine."

"So was Denver."

His response was quick and pointed enough to get her instinct going. She looked into his eyes and he looked into hers. She saw the tightness around his mouth, a tell he could never hide. "You know," she said slowly.

"What happened?"

Unlike her, he wasn't talking about the reason he'd gone to Denver. She breathed again and closed her eyes. "Do you want something to drink?" she asked when she opened them.

Licking his lips as he wondered how long her tactic was going to last, he accepted her stall.

She poured two cups of Arizona Lemon Tea while he took a seat at the dinner table in front of the island that stretched from the wall and separated the kitchen from the dining room.

"I can help," he volunteered, standing to do just that, but she declined and told him to remain seated. He watched her do her preparations, first depositing the cups on the table and then leaving to get the snacks. She was focused but she wasn't paying attention to what she was doing. He figured she was going over all of the methods she had to help her avoid his questions. He had a strong feeling that her being so tight-lipped meant she hadn't talked. To anyone. Not in a way that mattered. Not in a way where she was able to say what she really felt. She'd been like that towards him when they'd first become friends.

"Uh. I have chips and salsa," she declared as she held up the already-opened bag and the bowl of salsa. "I made it. The salsa, I mean."

"Bring it," he said, playing a fast beat on the table.

She smiled with teeth fully on display, something she hadn't done since before Caroline handed her Abby's goodbye letter. She read the two page spread every time she wanted to be reminded of the state of her life. Coming to the six-person table, she set their food down and took the seat opposite him.

The crunch of chips and the swallow of iced tea filled the room for several minutes as they shared the dipping bowl. No eye-contact was made, not until she made another pre-emptive strike. "When did you figure it out?"

She was surprised when he didn't resist the question. But she knew her turn was coming.

"There is no figuring out compulsion, I don't think. Elena told me."

Another surprise. "She did?"


She watched his jaw work. She knew it was because of more than the spiciness of the salsa. "What did you...say? What did you do?"

He looked at her, and his dark brown eyes became intense again. She was captivated. It was as if his bone structure became more fine, more chiseled, all very handsome. She cocked her head slightly, but he continued before she could contemplate the new descriptor. She'd never mentally described him with that word before.

"I'm crashing at Matt's. She told me the morning we got back."

He sounded completely detached from what he was saying. It mirrored how she felt. Except she hated the feeling. It reeked of defeat, yet she couldn't help herself. But detachment was unnatural on Jeremy; he should be talking; his anger should be written all over his face; it should be apparent in his eyes; his anger at his sister and Alaric and Damon should not be...cold. And yet it was, and that worried her. In her current emotional state, she didn't want to be worried about him, but she was. So she asked, "How are you doing?"

"I asked you first."

His gaze pierced her heart. He seemed to be daring her to speak. She watched frustration birth lines on his forehead. Familiarity and knowing walked into his eyes. He knew her. He knew there were things she wanted to say, a lot of things she wanted to say. But she was over wanting to say anything. She'd worked it all out in her head. She was very good at that. And once it was worked out in her head, what need was there to speak? So silence birthed twin lines on her forehead to match his. Her lips tightened, then pouted, then tightened again as she swallowed the words and emotions that would be worked out in her brain. They engaged in a staring contest, and he was way too comfortable, too content in his knowing of her. He was too patient, sure that she would crack, sure that she wouldn't be able to help it. And because of that, her stare turned contemptuous and the lines on her forehead deepened into a frown. Her upper lip twitched. His mouth worked like he was about to say something, and she gave, spinning out of her chair and walking away from him with an audible sound of disgust and exasperation.

She heard him hot on her heels, and she had to put a stop to it. "Jeremy, don't," she emphasized in warning. She heard him stop and breathed easier, but his body heat still pressed insistently against her back, something she knew was only in her head because he was in the middle of the living room while she'd almost made it to her reading spot. She turned and one of her hands found her waist while she held the other in a stop signal. "Just stay where you are right now. Please."

She tried to catch her breath, and she wanted to stop doing that, because the more she attempted to breathe the more it felt like she was breaking down, like she was expelling her armor chunk by chunk with every exhale. It couldn't be that easy. She hadn't been able to face the truth while alone; admitting things to herself was like pulling teeth, but he could walk in here, stare at her, and just like that she was ready to pass out? Catching her breath was proving to be a real problem. And how dare he still have that look on his face?

The sound of her hitching breath filled the room for several minutes as Jeremy stared at her. He couldn't help it. The more he watched her fight, and the harder she fought, the more beautiful he found her. She didn't half-ass anything. Especially when it was something she didn't want. If she didn't want to deal with something, if she didn't want to feel something, if she didn't want to talk about something, then there was barely any getting around it. And he knew his absence, more than their brief history as boyfriend and girlfriend and how that had ended, was what bolstered her resistance against him. But she was breaking before his very eyes. And he hated it. He hated that she had enough reasons to break in the first place.

Soon Bonnie was inhaling despite herself. Her upper lip pulled toward her nostrils, and she wanted to hide. The sound hitting her ear drums, a helpless, uncontrollable sob, made her feel uncomfortable. She wanted to curl in on herself.

Jeremy wanted to look away, to give her privacy because he knew this was killing her, but privacy would only allow her to batten down the hatches again. Instead, he walked closer.

"Jeremy stop." Her voice abandoned her on the second word. Suddenly she got a handle on her breathing. Just in time for her face to crumble.

Jeremy stood where she'd stopped him, and her giant, stuttering sob finally made him turn his head and close his eyes. He should've come by earlier, but the betrayal of his sister had crippled him so much that he hadn't been able to. Instead he'd bizarrely accepted her invitation to help decorate for the 20s dance. It was an olive branch on her part, one he wasn't interested in, but he didn't know what else to do. So he'd gone, and he'd helped, and Caroline's complaints and excitement had skidded on his nerves, and his sister's hope for forgiveness every time they made eye contact had angered him, and Matt being his friend had tired him out, so he'd finally left. Elena had asked where he was going, and he'd ignored her. He'd driven around and had finally composed himself enough to come here.

Bonnie held her hand to her mouth as she cried, the move a last ditch effort to hold in what she had left. But once she started she couldn't stop, and it was worse than crying outside of Klaus' house because this was a response to the amalgamation of everything. This was a response to her not crying enough. This was a response to how helpless she felt, and this was going to make her feel more helpless afterward, she was sure. And for a moment she wondered what she would be left with if she cried it all out. What was at her core at the moment, hidden beneath the layers of things left unsaid? She could not, must not, find out.

The smell of his body spray drew nearer and then hands held her upper arms. "No," she protested feebly, because she must not find out. He pulled her in, and he was too slow and too delicate with her, a stark contrast to everything that had happened to her the past two weeks, the way she'd been treated, the way she'd been spoken to, the way she'd felt. Because even as she'd slumped against her car and cried her eyes out, she hadn't felt fragile or delicate. Abby leaving her again hadn't been delicate. Fragility had been off the table when Elena had called her to come save Alaric so soon after she'd failed to save her mother. The fact that she'd succeeded in saving Alaric where she'd failed to save her mother had been another blow to her armor. Even this man who now held her in his arms as she gripped his flannel, even he had forgotten to treat her softly once. He had chosen to do this with someone else and left her scrambling to hide the raw pieces of her heart that she'd exposed to him. The fact that he hadn't sought her out to explain or apologize afterwards, choosing instead to...what? Mourn his lost love? Contemplate the emptiness of his life after losing Anna again? Whatever the reason, the way he'd completely washed his hands of her and them had not been soft, slow, or delicate.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

The emotion in his voice pulled at the emotion in her chest. He held her tight, and it was familiar, recognizable, and private. She cried against his expansive chest, and he stroke her hair and upped the ante by kissing the top of her head. Her heart started to thud when he placed a second kiss that was firm and lingering.

"It's gonna be okay."

A laugh burst out of her and then she couldn't stop laughing. She broke the hug and looked at him. His mouth pulled at the corners. "Is it?"

He inhaled deeply, and the breath he expelled fanned her wet face. "Maybe."

"I don't think so," she said sadly. "I really don't think so."

"I don't either," he said softly. The only reason he'd even arrived at the thought that things were going to be okay was because he had no more people to lose. That was not the definition of okay. That was the definition of losing. Of being beaten. Of acceptance.

"They just wanted to save her." She shrugged. Acceptance. "They made their choice." And now she doesn't know why she'd expected them to make another one. It was so easy to believe that there really was no alternative. Everyone else acted like that was the case. Elena was simply sorry. Only sorry. "If there's anything I can do." She'd left it up to Bonnie to think of something, anything she could do as if she'd canvased her options and found none. Just like the Salvatores. Caroline had helped her. But no one was angry. What happened to her mother was sad and unfortunate and regrettable according to Caroline and Elena, and it was necessary according to the Salvatores. But no one was angry. So why should she be angry? Who among them would even recognize her anger?

"They turned her."

"And they've moved on. They're going dancing tonight," she said with a wistful smile. "Tyler's back. Alaric is on his way to getting better. Stefan's regaining his humanity. And you're back safe and sound. It's time to dance," she whispered as fresh tears spilled on her cheeks. "I can't leave my house. I don't want to."

He closed the small distance she'd put between them and kissed the top of her head, and she sighed as she held his forearms. "I'm not dancing," he said against her head.

She smiled and sniffed.

"But maybe...they don't know what else to do. You can handle not dancing. I can too. Maybe they can't," he pondered. "Do you wanna dance?"


"What is she like?"

He hugged her close and she wrapped her arms around him, softening into the contact.

"I'm not sure," she said quietly. "She likes gardening. And baking." And running, her mind substituted, but the truth was that she now had an appreciation for her mother's ability to run. It was something she wished had been passed down to her. Her grandmother drank, her mother ran, and she...well, she stayed and fought the good fight with no outlet and thus a piece of her broke off every time. She again wondered what was at her core now. It wasn't the same thing that was there one month ago, whatever that thing had been. "She was powerful. She loved her magic. And she sometimes felt bullied by it."

"That sounds like you."

She pressed her cheek further into his chest to keep from thinking about just how much she'd been bullied by magic the past two weeks. She melted when he started to massage her neck, agile fingers pressing her hair into the skin. After composing herself, she separated their chests and looked up at him, her arms still around his waist. His smile was encouraging but not overly so. It was also void of hope, something she appreciated because she didn't need the falsity. He used one thumb to wipe both of her cheeks, and she turned the moment intimate: she closed her eyes as he touched her, and when she opened them his reflected a new form of softness. Her lips parted and then she closed them, and his eyes fell to the movement. "Thanks," she said softly.

"You're welcome." He made a conscious decision to not swallow before answering, a decision that made his voice come out thick.

She held his eyes, and he didn't look away, and she wondered if he would be surprised if she kissed him. She wondered if it would be stupid to kiss him. She cut her thoughts off at the knees by planting a kiss square on his lips, and everything sped up from that point on. She stepped back from him like she was eight years old again and had just kissed Calvin something or other at recess before pushing him down on the sand. Only she wasn't going to push Jeremy; she was preparing to do her part in the mutual awkward brush-off when he stepped up to her. She didn't hesitate at the obvious cue. She pulled at his neck and they closed the distance, falling into each other. They inhaled in sync. She kissed him fast and rough, and he reciprocated, and it wasn't recognizable, and it wasn't the same familiarity, and it wasn't the privacy they'd shared many times before.

It was passionate and hungry, and she deepened the kiss, and he welcomed her into his mouth. He tasted like the avocado and tomato from the salsa, with a hint of mango. She clawed at his hair and scalp, and he grabbed at her ass and back, and unbridled want heated her center which was exactly where she wanted his hands. They kissed loud and messy, and she found something new when he grasped her tongue with his lips. She waited, curious, and he sucked her tongue, and she moaned, and he moaned, and he licked on her tongue and sucked it again. That was definitely not familiar. After wetting her lips to make sure she didn't drool and ruin the moment, she copied him, making out with his tongue and letting him know she could keep it up forever. He grabbed the back of her neck and kissed her hard, and she lifted a leg and wrapped it around him. He put one hand under her uplifted thigh and one under her ass in order to support her, which brought his crotch dead in her center, and she felt his stiffening erection.

She moaned loudly when he started depositing hurried kisses along the front half of her neck. She held him close, marveling at his broad shoulders and ground her pussy against him. She heard him hitch in a breath, so she smiled proudly and did it again until she was rubbing his cock into a full erection. He cursed hotly on her neck and set to sucking the skin where her life pulsed. She worked herself into a fever pitch, thoroughly wetting her panties and hardening her clit, which brought another reason for her to keep grinding. He bit her softly and she trembled. He bit her harder, and she keened, "Yeah."

When her standing leg tired out, she returned the other to the floor. With one hand, he pressed her on his erection, and he used the other to squeeze her breasts. She lifted her other leg around his waist and they resumed dry humping.

Her clothes started to feel rough against his palms, and he thought in images. Naked. He wanted her naked. She gradually slowed her grinding until she came to a halt, and they stood off the side of her living room while he humped her rabidly, seeking out the heat of her crotch to rub his hard dick. Her mouth hung open and frozen at a half smile, her dark green eyes cloudy with need. Her panties grew sodden as she watched his dark eyes concentrate on her breasts. Taking advantage, she slipped one of her hands from around his neck, wedged it down between their bodies, and started rubbing his dick, her mouth opening wider at the feeling of it in her hand. Her move calmed his humping. He rubbed himself slowly against her palm while they breathed against each other's mouths. He ended the teasing by kissing her lips and then he started backing her up.

Bonnie looked behind her just in time to plop down on her gardening magazine. When she looked forward, he was on his knees and her lips were once again captured, and she abandoned herself to the desire he stoked.

"Are you sure you want this?" he asked, his voice even huskier than usual.

"Yes," she said breathily and kissed him deep.

He let the kiss play out and then eased her back to rest on the chair. He eyed her plump breasts covered by her black tank top but went for her shorts, which surprised Bonnie. Licking her lips, she followed his lead and lifted herself so he could take off first her shorts and then her underwear. Lifting her tank, he kissed her stomach, and she jumped away from his mouth, finding the gesture entirely too intimate. "Sorry," she said and shook her head, a frown appearing on her forehead as she tried to straighten herself out.

"It's okay."

"I wasn't expecting that. And I'm not sure I want you to do it again," she hurried to add when he moved to repeat it. She saw the light dim in his eyes. He apologized and looked awkward doing it, and it was her turn to let him know it was okay. She kissed him and wondered if he had changed his mind. When they stopped for a breath, they stared, each waiting on the other to either say the word 'go' or make the first move. Finally she rolled her eyes, and he chuckled. "Wow," she summarized.

"Yeah," he concurred.

Without another word, she lifted her shirt above her head. She watched him straighten his spine and fasten his eyes on her bra. Encouraged, she slipped off first one strap then the other. Following a brand new idea, she puffed out her chest and slipped her hands behind her back to undo the clasp. The light returned to his eyes, and he licked his lips, and she couldn't stop her smile. She dropped the garment next to him, and she was ready when his intense gaze focused on hers. He shook his head like he wanted to say something, but he kissed her instead, with such force that he knocked her back against the chair and she laughed in his mouth while protesting in her throat. She stroke his hair while he nipped her throat and ravaged her breasts, and she created a wet spot on the white coverings of the chair. She stopped him for a second to throw the black pillow and the magazine over his head and onto the chair across.

She liked the way her breasts almost fit inside his mouth, liked the feel of his hands on her bare thigh, liked his hot and wet mouth licking her nipples incessantly, loved the rapid way his tongue flew over her nipples after he teased them into hard brown peaks. Unbeknownst to her, it was a precursor for how he would go about eating her pussy.

He framed her face with his hands, another intimate move that she was not ready for. And he repeated it and just when she was about to protest he worsened it by moving his hands down to her neck, over her breasts, along her stomach, and over her thighs. Her heart grew heavy, and that was not the emotion she wanted to feel at the moment.

"Sit back and lift your legs."

She inhaled without meaning to. He sounded like he knew exactly want he wanted to do and how he wanted to do it. Her pussy clenched, and she did as told while trying not to think about the fact that she'd procrastinated on shaving. Her trim was no longer neat and in fact it was possible to pull at her pubic hair, something she sometimes did while waiting to fall into a stressful sleep. He didn't seem to take any special notice, however.

"Higher," he instructed, and she gasped again as she readjusted herself, and he wondered if that was something she just couldn't help.

Bonnie put her hands behind her knees, the cold air in the room hitting her wet pussy. She watched him take off his flannel shirt, and she wanted to ask for a timeout so she could grope his biceps in the fitted dark grey shirt. He stroke her suspended thighs and watching him, seeing how much his face had filled out in just a couple of weeks, how much bigger he'd gotten, how his face was more set; his face was harder and more tired, and his eyes were duller despite the desire that possessed them at the moment; watching him, she could barely recognize the boy who had been eager to have a date with her, the one who had been eager to kiss her in the school hallway. There was no more eagerness, and that filled her with a crushing sadness. It worsened when he put his hand on her stomach again.

She closed her eyes and controlled her breathing even as she wondered if he could feel her stomach quivering.

Jeremy looked up and saw the tension on her face. She was concentrating, and he recognized it as an effort to ignore his fingers that circled on her soft stomach. Her legs were in the air and her mouth jutted out stubbornly. If he could recognize earlier that she'd been holding in her hurt, he of course could recognize now that he was making her feel something she didn't want. Yet he still caressed her stomach, turned his touch even softer in fact. She probably wanted to tell him to stop. He took advantage of the fact that she didn't, probably because she did not want to stall the moment. But he knew her silence wouldn't last. He kept a close watch on her and timed it perfectly. As soon as her frown deepened, he moved his hand south and fought his smile so she wouldn't catch that he'd figured out that him touching her there bothered her.

"Are you just gonna make me wait?" She honestly tried to keep the impatience out of her voice. She opened her eyes.

"Do you know how you look right now?" he asked, unfazed as he ran his hands up and down her thighs.

"My legs are getting tired," she sassed.

"You look hot."

"Jeremy," she said, a warning flashing in her eyes. She wasn't ready for compliments either.

"Sexy. I'm serious. And you're an athlete."

"Who hasn't run or stretched in I dunno how long," she finished with a chuckle. "I quit the cheerleading team, remember?" Was she really having a conversation with her legs up in the air and her vulva exposed to this boy's face?

"Mmm," he murmured while spreading her labia with his right index and middle fingers.

"I'm not as bendable as I used to be," she said suggestively, and he didn't disappoint in his reaction. Bedroom eyes pinned her down. "Jeremy, can you do something?"

He doubled over in laughter.

"Geez!" she complained even as she committed the hearty laugh to memory.

"No don't!" he protested when she started to put her legs down.

"Well then do somethi-"

He pinned her legs back up and took a languorous swipe at her pussy before sucking her hairy lips into his mouth.

Bonnie gasped loudly and almost pulled him off, but she beared down on her impulse and stayed put while the adrenaline of shock died in her lower stomach and was quickly replaced by the novel feeling of him sucking and licking her pussy. She wet her mouth and measured her breaths and held on tighter to her knees.

Jeremy stuck his thumb in his mouth and wet it generously before using it to rub her little clit in slow circles. He wet his left index and middle finger but then remembered to pace himself, so he inserted his middle finger into her vulva.

Bonnie tried not to tighten as his slender digit slipped along her slick entrance. Her lips parted when he started stroking. Her teeth scraped her lower lip, and she made eye contact with him. He licked his lips and she mimicked it, her movement calculated. He smiled, and she grinned, and she held her breath for more pleasure when he inserted his index finger. He ceased playing with her clit and petted her mound instead, careful not to stray near the No Go Zone that was her stomach.

The time between breaths grew shorter when he increased the pace. Her chest and stomach seemed to cave in completely when she exhaled. Her thigh muscles started to twitch. His reverence with what he was doing, the way he was immersed in fiddling her pussy, only occasionally glancing up at her, increased her desire. It became more of a chore to drag air into her lungs. Her moans became more frequent, and the urge to close her eyes became irresistible. So she did. She closed her eyes and folded her lips and turned her head from side to side as her orgasm approached. His fingers plunged in and out. His harsh breaths assaulted her ears and pushed her toward completion.

Jeremy watched how her mouth formed into a perfect circle when she moaned, watched how the circles became more frequent, watched lines form on her forehead, her eyes tighten, her nose scrunch, and her mouth crook to its favorite side, and none of this was because of a spell; it was not an attempt to remember an incantation or to push herself. She was about to become undone because of his fingers, and he pushed her to unravel, craved to see her in the throes of an orgasm and longed to see her in the aftermath of coming.

The tension experienced by her body showed all over her face. She moaned when her orgasm flooded. Her eyes popped open and she yelped through her orgasm as her legs drew closed of their own volition.

Jeremy let her trap his hand and waited for her to calm down, an amused gleam in his eyes. Once she was breathing easier, he opened her legs and used her come to lube her clit. But still he paid no attention to it, simply kept it in a constant state of moistness.

Bonnie licked her lips and wiped her face as her breath returned to normal and settled in as Jeremy stroke her thighs again, something he would always return to as she recovered from future orgasms.

The room eventually grew loud with the sounds of Jeremy's fingers bouncing up and down inside her vulva as he lay siege on her g-spot. Her come soaked the chair and it spilled down the front. Her legs were now accustomed to being suspended, though her muscles ached. It was a fair trade. Her yells filled the room, and she hoped once or twice that no one walked by the house. And whereas before she could barely support Jeremy standing close to her while her emotions were in turmoil, now she enjoyed him hanging all over her, kissing her neck, kissing her mouth and eyes and nose while he got her off. She absolutely loved when he would make out with her and then she'd have to tear her mouth away because his onslaught on her pussy was relentless and she needed her mouth free so she could scream out her next orgasm. He had moved next to the chair, standing in order to have a good enough angle to reach her spot.

Whenever he gave her a break, they didn't talk. He caressed her thigh while she stroke the back of his neck, something that never ceased to make the hairs there stand straight up.

It got to the point where she was calling him "baby." Jeremy could've sworn that all of the blood left his body when she first uttered the term of endearment. She wasn't the only one who didn't necessarily want to go back there. Granted, he was more flexible than she was, but those memories weren't something he wanted to tackle. He didn't feel like he deserved to think about what they once were. The way he'd acted didn't fit his definition of loving someone. Refusing to contemplate it further when he had Bonnie on the verge of coming, he closed the thought. But he got used to the term, and his dick started to strain insistently against his jeans.

Bonnie pulled on his neck so he would come down to make-out. He fingered her g-spot and flirted with her next orgasm. He called it forth, then pulled back and let it abate, called it again, and then paused his fingers and used his thumb to rub her wet and horribly neglected clit. Her wanton sounds disappeared down his throat while she captured his breaths. His hand and wrist shined with her come. She stretched her tongue to chase his, and they mingled, and everything suspended.

"Mmmm," she moaned when he broke the kiss, totally unsuspecting.

He stuck four fingers in his mouth, wetting them generously, and rubbed her aching and lubed nub fast and furious. She immediately coiled as the most powerful orgasm rushed and tackled her. Her hands clamped down on the arms of the chair while he used his free hand to hold her legs up. "Ah! Ah! Ah! Shiiiitttt!" Helpless to slow her orgasm, she blindly used both hands to grip the arm working on her clit, half pushing and half pulling. She arched severely. "Fuuuck!" She yelled as she ejaculated like she hadn't come at all in the forty-five minutes since he'd taken off her underwear, short bursts of surprised sounds. She wet her stomach and thighs. "Jeremy!" Her voice broke on the last syllable, and it came out as a desperate and defeated sob.

"Ah fuck," Jeremy groaned. His eyes ping-ponged between her pussy and her taunt face. Her eyes were shut tight, and her neck muscles stood out. All of this coupled with the unique symmetry of her face created a picture of unreserved lewdness that had his cock crying pre-come. He continued to quickly rub her clit from side to side while pressing down on it, and then he slowed down. He inserted his middle and ring fingers inside and lubed her clit again, and she flinched. He then sucked his fingers clean two at a time and moaned at her taste.

Bonnie didn't see this; she couldn't focus on him. Her thighs shook and her calves threatened to tighten up. She turned away from him and slumped in the fetal position, a big smile on her face as she bit her bottom lip. "Oh my God, oh my God. Ah," she repeated breathlessly. She trembled when he started stroking her thigh. She hoped none of that was pee. Her vulva felt like it was positively breathing, and it felt amazing. If she could figure out what was currently at her core through this method, then she'd be all for the journey.

She laughed, and it was high pitched and genuine, and Jeremy marveled at it. The curve of her ass called out to him, and he walked uncomfortably to the front of the chair and kneeled. He kissed her upper thigh, kissed the fleshy part of her ass, and she shifted, clumsily putting her legs up on the arm of the chair, and he gained greater access, and he wondered if she'd ever played with her asshole. The idea came to him as he played with her ass cheek, rubbing and jiggling it, and he wanted to follow up on it, hoped he would be able to. It was something he used to think about back when they were together, when he would masturbate to the different ways they could be intimate.

He cursed under his breath when his dick throbbed anew at the thought.

The obscenity captured Bonnie's attention. She'd thought about his state twice while the minutes had ticked by, and she'd asked him if he was okay, and he'd reassured her he was. Looking at him now, she was positive he'd reached the end of his rope. She smiled and slowly sat up. She felt like she'd been put through the ringer. "Are you okay?"

"Not really," he answered, voice raspy.

"Mmm." She kissed him, unhurried and chaste. Slipping her hand between them, she fondled his erection, and the seat cushions shifted under her when he held on to them. She groped him more firmly.

"Think you can come again?" He asked lazily.

She laughed. "I don't think so." He stood, and her hand immediately latched on to his belt, stopping any movement he might've thought to make. She looked up, and he was watching her, his mouth hanging open and hips unconsciously thrusted toward her. A grin spread slowly on her face. She cupped him, and he moved into her hands, and she steadied her grip. Using both hands, she felt him along the dark wash jeans, squeezing in order to get the impression of his thickness. He let out strong breath, and she looked up.

"That feels really good."

"Oh yeah?" She undid his belt while he took off his shirt. She unbuttoned his pants and then ran her hands up his chest. Remembering her earlier desire, she stood and proceeded to paw his biceps. He was definitely bigger. "Did you work out in Denver?" She wasn't embarrassed to ask, and her voice came out thick as honey. Her hands migrated to his pecs, and she squeezed, committing the hard plains to memory.

"A little. Played some bad baseball." "The gym didn't help though," he said after a few seconds. "The emptiness. Nothing helped."

His voice, a softer register than usual, wrapped around Bonnie, and she looked up.

"I saw you, you know. At the beginning. Online." He saw the protection fall over her face, and he remembered to keep those particular feelings out of his voice, out of his eyes, and out of his face. "You could've talked to me. You knew I couldn't reach out to you, not with-"

"I know. I just..." She chuckled self-deprecatingly. "...forgot how to reach out to you, I guess." She'd turned her status invisible because she hated having to wonder what he was up to and what he was thinking. There was never a good time to write him. There were times when she'd wanted to be selfish and start up a conversation, make him her getaway again. But she wouldn't have been able to tell him everything, not with his compulsion in place, and that, more than any other reason, had made her hesitate. So she'd switched her status to invisible. She never imagined that he noticed.

He wanted to ask her if she remembered how to talk to him and how to open up to him now, but he chose not to. Soft hands snaked up his neck, and his mind emptied when she connected her lips to his.

"Bonnie," he strained. Her hands were inside his pants, rubbing his wet boxer briefs against his cock, and he needed to come.

"I know."

He held his breath when she dropped to her knees in a fluid motion. She unzipped his pants carefully and then snatched them down.

And things sped up again.

His cock sprung up as soon as his underwear cleared the way, and Bonnie forgot all about self-awareness and shame. Her eyes shined with a predatory glint. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and slowly let it pop out. His cock twitched, and she was unaware that it was a response to her face. She watched it slowly rise, and her mouth opened further. When it bounced, she wrapped her hand around the base and looked up at its owner. Her heart skipped when she found him looking at her. His ravenous grin matched hers. Tightening her grip, she dragged her tongue the length of him and paid mind to the ridges and veins that communicated the extent of his lust. She swallowed and tasted his salty ejaculate and decided it was something she could get used to. When she licked her way back to the head, she swallowed him in her mouth.

Jeremy watched avidly. Her hands stayed around his shaft in a vice-like grip which only brought him closer to nirvana. In contrast, her mouth wrapped soft and hot around his dick. He stayed still as she experimented and worked out how she wanted to do things, even though his hands flexed with the desire to hold her head in place.

He was bigger than he felt through his clothes, but Bonnie found he could fit in her mouth just fine. She loosened her lips when she sucked in as much of him as she could, and she folded her lips when she sucked more toward the tip of his cock. She ran into a problem when it came to using her tongue, however. She wanted to use it, wanted to taste as much of him as possible, to give him as much as possible, but things became noisy when she used her tongue. Noisy and wet because the more of him she took the wider her mouth opened and she'd start to drool. She tried repeatedly and always stopped when she felt her saliva about to overflow.

The inconsistency was apparent to Jeremy, and the experience became harder to enjoy. He briefly watched her struggle, watched every time she stopped to collect herself, and it started to wear his erection down. "Hey," he said, grabbing his dick from her hand and pulling out of her mouth. "Come here."

He led her to the chair facing the one she'd been writhing on a couple of minutes ago. He dropped the pillows and magazine on the floor. Framing her face, he said, "Don't worry about it, okay?" He didn't hide his amusement.

Bonnie huffed in a breath, puffing out her chest and jutting out a stubborn chin. "It's just...a little big, is all. I know what I'm doing. It's just..." She rolled her eyes, the self-awareness now back in full force. "Sometimes I feel like I'm gonna drool," she blurted out with attitude, cocking a stand as if she expected him to say something her ego wasn't in the mood for.

Her defensiveness widened his smile. "Don' about it. Do what you have to."

She wondered how he could sound so seductive speaking five simple words. "Drool?" she questioned doubtfully.


His mouth pulled at the corners as his eyes danced with words unspoken. Curious about what he wasn't saying, she slanted her head and raised an arched brow.

"If you take it as deep as you can, you're gonna be drooling anyways...I like it deep," he confessed.

She bit her lip to keep from smiling. Shifting her weight to her left side, she ventured, "You mean..."


She smiled wide, and both looked utterly lecherous.

"I'm not saying you have to do that-"

"Oh come on, don't back down now," she teased.

"I'm not backing down; I'm just saying." His voice softened when he said, "You don't have to do anything you don't want to. But I am...starting to die, so...I need you to get comfortable." His face and neck grew hot. There was no other way to say it as far as he knew but at the same time he didn't want her to feel put out.

She laughed and shook her head.

"And it might be easier if I'm sitting."

It was. She had better control, better grip, and she was more comfortable. In short time, she shrugged off her self-awareness again, and the room filled with slurping sounds as she bobbed up and down. She accustomed her jaw to his width as she took more and focused on putting enough pressure with her lips to get him off. She stopped once to make sure he was enjoying himself and found his eyes were glazed. He slouched further in the chair which pushed his cock toward her. He touched her shoulder, and told her it was good. Satisfied, she took him in her mouth with vigor.

Jeremy felt his balls swell, and he tightened his hold on her shoulder. From there, his hand traveled to her neck and fondled it, then he threaded his fingers through the hair at her nape and brought it up to her crown. He stilled his hand but kept it soft enough so that he didn't get in her way as she jounced up and down. The sight of her sucking his cock, the feel of her lithe tongue and her saliva coating his length, the sound of it as she she swilled her slaver mixed with his was beyond his imagination and had certainly been the furthest thing from his mind for a long time. Not even when she'd kissed him, not even when he'd asked her if she was sure, had he thought he'd end up in the heat of her mouth.

He knew he wasn't going to last long. He widened his legs and massaged her crown and, wetting his lips, closed his eyes and rested his head on the back of the chair. In the darkness, his problems tried to barge back in, but he slightly increased the pressure on Bonnie's crown in order to remind him of where he was, who he was with, and what was happening, and the problems disappeared again.

Bonnie's jaw started to cramp. She tried to push through, but it only got worse. She slurped her way up his cock and tightened her lips around his head and swallowed his pre-come, and she immediately started moving the hand that was resting at his shaft. She pumped his cock, twisting her hand every time she got close to the top.

"Yeah," he murmured.

With her other hand, she trailed a path up his stomach to his chest.

"Tighter," he told her, and she increased the pressure with which she held him, squeezing his cock as she twisted her hand around it and used his semen to keep him lubed.

"Put your hand on my head again." As long as they were giving orders...

Grinning, Jeremy did as he was told although he was forced to sit a little straighter since she was no longer bent over him. He wanted to hold her hand to his chest, had the most urgent desire to hold it to his heart in fact, but the notion unsettled him. It was too familiar and though a part of him still pushed to do it regardless, he knew now was not the time. She definitely wasn't in the mindset to deal with that, if her reaction to him touching her stomach earlier was any indication, and when she laid her hand in a most definitive, what he thought to be a most possessive, way, as if staying him where he was, as if telling him to pay attention; when the palm of her hand pressed into his chest and burned through it straight to his heart, he knew wasn't ready either. Now was the prime time to look away, to let go of sight and close his eyes again, but she was looking at him, into his eyes. She'd commandeered his attention, and he couldn't deny her this, wasn't going to close his eyes and force her to find another source of pleasure, another thing to add to her experience. She'd decided looking into his eyes at this very moment was it, and he could only hope they didn't betray him.

The sounds coming out of him were more and more frayed and broken as he watched her hand go up and down his slick cock. His balls tightened and with a twitch of his cock he started coming. He pressed on her crown, and the worst thing happened. Her palm flexed against his chest, and suddenly he felt something move swiftly up and down his spine with a disarming potency. "Oh my-! Oh my-!" That heavenly something stole his voice as it simultaneously spread on his chest and balled in the centers of his feet. The sensation was like the sweetest electricity on his spine and the thickest waves on his chest, and his feet threatened to slacken with the energy taking space there. She was channeling him, and his cock hardened painfully at the realization, and his arousal increased. "Shit! Shi-Bon-."

His breath came out in quick shallow huffs. His come had halted when she'd started channeling him, a reflex so that his brain could figure out what was happening, and now he felt like he was going to come harder than before. His abdomen started shaking. He looked at her: the thirst on her face as she held him in her gaze, the hard lust in her eyes, the way she radiated dominion; the feeling of her power settling in his body and concurrently taking from it. Tattered sounds escaped with every breath. His thighs started shaking, and the damn broke, and he resumed coming, and this time it was voluminous. "Shit!" he shouted as his body started convulsing and her hand on his dick siphoned all he had.

He watched his come spring out, thick and heavy, and it was too much. His toes curled and the energy dwelling in his feet broke and reformed in response, and his balls tightened at the feeling. He choked on her name and threw his head on the back of the chair, a dopey smile on his face as he came harder than he could remember coming in a very long time.

Bonnie fixed her hand to make sure she was still firmly touching his chest. Part of her wanted to let go and use both hands to jack him off, maybe channel him directly from his dick, but she didn't want to break the connection, and a bigger part of her wanted to take more, to give more. His sixth spurt landed on her neck, the seventh missed her face when she quickly turned and landed on her cheek. She flinched and grinned, and increased the intensity with which she tapped into his body. His arms, having long left her head, tightened their grip on the back of the chair.

Jeremy felt like he was being dismantled through his spine, felt like he was coming apart, like every defense he had was washing away. And he tried to salvage all of it; in the span of seconds, he instinctually tried to hold on to all of his defenses and rapidly found that trying to resist made it even better when she effortlessly tugged it from his weak grasp. He grunted and choked out a strong curse, an obscenity said by a man who knew he was at mercy and who knew he wanted no mercy. Because in this space, finally there existed a space, having no control and being controlled, being acted on, felt like heaven, felt like the sweetest gift. His legs shook uncontrollably, and he imagined that there was no end. His face was taunt, and he jerked his back against the chair for lack of anything else to do. He looked down at the steady hold she had on his cock, his cock that felt intangible and supremely tactile at once. Nothing felt more palpable than the heat of her palm against his messy dick, however. Her face clearly said she wasn't ready to end it, and a large part of him wanted her to give all she had, but then the lights started flickering madly and he heard several doors open and slam shut upstairs as her power found another way to convert the energy she was pilfering from his body, and his cock twitched in her fist, and his spine felt like it was going to rip the last shred of his bravado away. He wanted it but he couldn't afford it, and with an achingly helpless curse he grabbed her wrist and pried her hand from his cock. He immediately missed it, all of it. His body felt strange, his mind felt like it was still occupying another place. He shot blindly out of the chair and moved around her on uneasy feet. He slipped and almost fell, and that's when he realized there was condensation on the tile floor. He didn't stop until he made it to the safety, and dryness, of the kitchen, breathing hard the whole way.

Bonnie felt like she was coming out of a trance as she stood. She stretched the hand that had been jacking him off. It was covered with ejaculate, as far up as the crook of her elbow. She rotated her wrist to get the blood flowing and watched come slip from her hand onto the floor. She dragged her right foot and disturbed the water that had formed on the tile. With her left arm, she wiped the come that had landed on her cheek.

It was the first time she'd used her power since that horrible day spent in Klaus' mansion. She tried to figure out how she felt in the wake of channeling Jeremy. It had been a spontaneous act. She'd watched him on the verge of coming and remembered that night almost eight months ago when he'd wanted her to channel him. Once she'd started, his reaction had driven her to keep going. She'd taken pleasure in how much she'd affected him, and she'd wanted more of it, had wanted to see how far she could drive him. And now she wanted to know exactly what he'd been feeling in those too brief seconds. Her curiosity about Jeremy's inner workings brought her back to her own hang-ups. She'd used her powers on him, but it still wasn' before. She would channel him again in a heartbeat, but there was a...a sense of control that used to be there whenever she used her powers...a strong sense of, comfort, the knowledge that she definitely had a handle on this particular thing. This, her powers, her magic would never...hurt her. It would never be used to hurt her, because she was the only one who had clout over it. People could use her love for them to hurt her, to leave her like her mother and Jeremy and to ignore her like her father, with the full knowledge that she would still be there. But they couldn't use her magic. Her magic had been her solace many times, the first time being the weeks and months following her grandmother's death. But in the last three weeks since her mother's death...

She was thankful when Jeremy reappeared. She'd avoided thinking about this for the last three days, the last three weeks even, but she was starting to crack. And if she cracked, if she let it all out, what would she be left with?

"Hi," she greeted him with a furtive smile. She took stock of his sculpted body now that he was standing at a distance. His face, neck, and chest were tinted a very pale pink.


Though he smiled in return, and it was a secret smile that said they'd done something nasty together, she saw how he averted his gaze, saw how he wasn't coming any closer. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just...I needed a moment."

Her heart stilled at a new thought. "Did I hurt you?"

"No," he rushed to reassure her, and he stepped closer. Brushing his mouth, he said, "I was just feeling a little weird."

"I shouldn't have done it. Or I should've asked first." She chuckled nervously as the thought that she'd overstepped her boundaries, done something he in fact didn't want, ate at her.

"No, Bonnie," he said quickly in an attempt to block the direction her thoughts were going. He further lessened the gap between them. "You didn't need to ask," he said softly. "I swear," he emphasized laughingly when naked doubt appeared on her face. If she had asked, he would've been more guarded during the experience. That's if he didn't outright decline. He would've missed out.

"You left," she said simply.

"I needed to...regroup. It felt amazing. I've never felt anything like it.'s hard to explain. I started feeling exposed; were creeping into places I don't...want. Like you were pulling apart my feelings. I guess," he explained, feeling awkward.

His eyes pinned her down, and Bonnie wondered when he closed the space between them. He looked at her like he was wondering how she had the power to do such a thing; he looked at her like he was seconds away from kissing her for being able to do it.

"I probably shouldn't have channeled you when you're dealing with being compelled," she said, sounding dazed.

"I told you it's fine," he said. He tucked the hair on the left side of her face behind her ear. He stroke the skin hanging from said ear, dragged his thumb diagonally on her cheek, and finally tilted her chin up with his index finger and kissed her long and slow.

This kiss, unlike the one that led them here, was laid back. Jeremy licked her bottom lip and she licked his, but Bonnie never let the kiss go deeper than that. Instead, she enjoyed the mellow way his arms wrapped around her, registered how her breasts were squished against his chest. He sucked on her lip and she smiled, which made it slip out but he quickly caught it between his teeth, and she thought it was the sexiest thing that had ever happened to her. She moaned, and he freed her lip. "I should probably go wash my hand." She had to repeat the first two words because her voice was gone for a second.

"Yeah. I should probably clean up too." The come on his abdomen and thighs were drying. He glanced at the bit that had landed on her neck. "What happened to the floor?" he asked, registering that his feet were wet.

"Magic," she said cheekily.

He smiled and shook his head at the obvious joke as she grinned and walked past him.

" did enjoy that, right?"

He turned and stared at her, openly dumbfounded that she would ask, but when she chuckled and took the stairs two at a time, he realized that she was stroking her own ego, and he watched her ass as she went.

He cleaned up in the half-bath downstairs while she fixed herself in her bathroom upstairs. After he dressed, he went outside to stuff his ruined boxer-briefs under the passenger seat of his car. He took a moment to think about what had just happened, how his day had strayed from the expected, and when he turned to walk back into the house, the state of all of the windows made him chortle. "Wow," he said under his breath.

Hands on her hips and lips folded, Bonnie was contemplating the mess they'd made when he walked back in. She needed a shower, but she'd cleaned what was important. She had also washed and moisturized her face, and she'd thrown on a yellow tank and turquoise shorts. "We need to clean this up. Somehow," she said, looking at the wet chair she'd occupied.

"Yeah, we probably should've put down towels."

She loved that they had been too hurried to think of that.

"Hey, uh, your windows are fogged up."

"What?" She hurried to the window next to the chair when he pointed, pulled the blinds, and saw condensation slowly rolling down the glass. "Oh." She laughed.

"All of them are like that."

She turned with an amazed smile. She'd felt something happening to the air around the house when she'd started channeling him, but she hadn't been focused on it.

"Is there some kind of magical cleaning solvent you can use?"

"Mmm, maybe," she said, seriously thinking about it. "There might be something in my mom's grimoire. She left it to me," she added quietly, when he looked from the chairs to her. "There's a couple of stuff in there about herbs and mixtures..."

"Do you need any help?"

Smiling, she shook her head. "I can do it later."

"Your dad-"

"Isn't here. Won't be until Wednesday."

Giving him her back, she faced the work ahead of her. Of course she could just clean it manually, but the seat cushions were white. She heard him move off, and when she looked, he'd taken a seat on one end of the couch. His head was thrown back, and his eyes were closed. Leaving the chairs, she walked to him. He opened his eyes and looked at her when she was near. The dark orbs reflected the softness and quiet want in her green ones. She took it as openness, for whatever she wanted to do, so she climbed on his lap and sat, her back resting on the arm of the couch.

Jeremy draped one arm over her bent legs and when Bonnie laid her head on his chest and rested her hand on his arm, he wrapped the other one around her back. They stayed in that position for minutes, both staring at something that couldn't be seen by the other. Neither knew when Bonnie started tracing his arm.

"What time is it?" she asked.

Jeremy lifted the hand on her thigh to look at his watch. "Uh, seven-o-eight."

"The dance has started," she said absently.

"I decorated it."

"What?" A small smile split her face.

"I decorated the dance."

She straightened and gaped at him. "Since when?"

"Since Elena's trying to make amends. Matt asked me if I wanted to help, and I knew he was doing it for Elena. I only went because I had nothing else to do, and I really didn't want to think. But then I had enough so I left. And ended up here."

"How did you do?" The thought of him being part of a decorating committee amused her more than it should.

"With a lot of push from Caroline? I'm sure I was subpar."

She laughed at his droll tone. "She can be a little...zealous."

"It was too much excitement."

"Hmm." She bit the inner corner of her lip. The amusement drained from her face as she became serious about the thought that just struck her. "Maybe I should go see the result. Right?" she asked, lifting her shoulders when he did nothing but look at her.

"It's really not that impressive. We can stay in if you want to."

She wanted to take him up on the offer but was suddenly gripped by mild anxiety at the thought of him leaving at the end of the night, in a couple of hours, in an hour, or in whatever time social norms and etiquette would dictate that he's been at her place for longer than required. She wasn't anxious at the prospect of being without his company; she just was not ready to go back to being alone. Night was coming, and it was her favorite time, but she wanted to prolong their time together.

"I wanna go," she decided.

"You're sure?"

"Yeah," she said, taking a long breath and nodding her head. "Let's go," she declared, shaking him when he turned his head to the left in doubt. She vacated his lap and stood.

"You have a costume?" he asked, standing.

"I can find one," she said, thinking fast. "Do you?"

"Uh yeah. Elena gave Matt one for me. Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yeah," she said, infusing excitement into her voice. "I've been stuck in my house for like three days," she explained, grabbing on to his forearms. "I wanna see outside."

"Okay," he said, still sounding reluctant.

"Unless you don't wanna go."

"Nah, I'm up for whatever."

"Great." She was genuinely getting excited.

There was a moment of hesitation when it came time to part, but they solved it at the same time when both leaned and crashed their mouths together. They chuckled at the awkward kiss, gave each other a better one, and Bonnie closed the door.